How long is a little
by Viskey HeroMouse
Summary: Dean is faced with a nightmare he never knew he had. But maybe it's not all that bad. Dean/Castiel, but not your everyday slash-fic.
1. So we can kill it?

"So we can kill it?" "Yeah, we can kill it," Sam confirmed, snapping his laptop shut. "Won't be easy, won't be quick, but we can kill it."

"Good, so let's get going. We wouldn't want any more pregnant women to become un-pregnant, would we?"

Sam gave Dean a badly suppressed exasperated look, but that was just why Dean kept talking like a prick: Sam just looked too funny, when his self-righteousness got in the way of his common sense. He really should know that Dean cared a lot for these women. Who in their right mind wouldn't? Something – a deva apparently – came and stole their unborn babies right out of their wombs, leaving them broken and devastated. Because how do you explain to your family that all of a sudden you aren't pregnant anymore? How do you explain to them what happened with the baby? How do you explain the seemingly impossible?

So yeah, kill that Bitch-of-a-Whatever and save a few more kids to see the light of day. – Whatever good that might do, what with the apocalypse dangling over their heads and all. It almost seemed cruel to save them. And if not cruel then at least meaningless.

No. Dean ground his teeth together stubbornly. Doing good was not meaningless. Apocalypse be damned, doing good still meant something. It always would. "So, are we going or what?" he snapped, snatching the keys from the table.

"Not so fast."

"What, you said we could kill it. So let's go and kill it."

"Dean, this is not just another garden variety baddie."

"I know, it's taking unborn babies, so the sooner we kill it the better!" He tried to stare Sam down, but somehow that had worked better when they'd been younger and the age-gap had carried more weight. In other words: When bodily harm was not rendered a ridiculous threat by being shorter than his younger brother.

"There are precautions to take," Sam continued undeterred. "We want to make sure it's the deva who's dying, not us. So give me a little. Okay?"

"How long is a little?" Dean asked.

"A day, maybe two."

"Two days... very little," Dean mocked, and flopped down on his bed, turning on the TV.

-oOo-

The deva's lair wasn't hard to spot. After a lifetime of hunting – and not to forget another lifetime in hell – Dean had developed a very fine-tuned sense for the supernatural.

To the unsuspecting eye it was just another average house in an average town. A little run-down maybe, but nothing to raise suspicion. But to Dean it looked like the house had been dealt a paint job with that very special colour called evil.

He heard Sam next to him swallow. "I really rather not go in there," he said softly.

Dean was totally with him on that one. Sure, he wanted the deva dead, but he didn't want to see what it had done to all those babies. "Not much of a choice there. Or do you see the deva coming out to play with us? 'cause I don't." Wisecracking helped chipping the edge off and keeping things focused.

"Geronimo," Sam muttered, and Dean couldn't agree more.

They approached the house, Holy Water and an actual bucket full of smouldering frankincense at the ready. Why frankincense would harm this thing, Dean couldn't fathom, but Sam had assured him it would, and that was good enough for him.

The door opened easily enough, and Dean was instantly grateful beyond belief for the frankincense. The stench inside was nauseating to put it mildly. They both gagged, but managed not to throw up, concentrating instead on the heavy, penetrating smoke rising from the bucket.

From outside the house might look normal, but inside it was a completely different matter. There were blood stains on the floor and walls, and scattered across the hall were bits of flesh and small bones in various degrees of decay.

"Oh hello, darlings," a sweet female voice greeted them from the right. Sam's and Dean's heads spun from the hall at large over to her. She stood in the doorway to what was likely the living room, and she looked human enough in spite of the blood-smears on her face, chest and hands.

"Bitch," Dean hissed.

"How very nice of you," the deva acknowledged his insult with a smile and a nod. "But do you really think that 'bitch' is a worthy last word?"

"Worked for me the last time around."

That confused the deva for a moment, but she was soon back on track. "You know," she cooed, "I normally don't dine on males ... let alone born and grown ones." She laughed as if she'd made the ultimate joke, before she turned serious again. "But I could make an exception for you two. I hear you have very special meat on your bones. Wouldn't it be hilarious to have the apocalypse and nobody left to stop it? I sure would love a little chaos to spread."

At that Sam charged forward, splashing the creature with Holy Water. The deva screeched and backed up, protecting herself from the water. "How dare you!" she screamed. "I'll fry you for that!"

Now Dean charged forward, too, waving the bucket at her.

Again the deva backed up. "And get this stink out of my house!"

Yeah, likely. They had come to end this, after all.

Dean kept the deva in check with thick wafts of frankincense and well place squirts of Holy Water while Sam prepared a deva-trap of his own design: a circle of symbols and pots filled with frankincense. When they finally had her in the circle, Sam took over the show. He started the incantation he had found and memorized while Dean made sure the frankincense kept burning and refilled the pots where it seemed necessary.

The deva writhed and spat fire – literally, she did spit fire. The flames were not much worry about, though, because they didn't go far. But it was still unsettling to watch, especially when she started muttering incantations of her own, each word punctuated by a flock of sparks or bluish flames shooting from her mouth. Her eyes darted back and forth between Sam and Dean before she settled on Dean.

"Great, why always me?" Dean had time to mutter before everything became fuzzy. His vision blurred, the room around him grew, then shrank, grew again. His hearing tuned in and out. The temperature went from cooking to freezing, a gazillion immaterial ants crawled all over and under his skin. His brain spun. Really. Dean could feel it do somersaults inside his skull. He had the good sense to get away from the trap when he realised that he would loose consciousness, lest he disturbed it when he dropped.

-oOo-


	2. Well, Dean thing is

"Yeah well, I'm sorry, but it's kind of too late now!"

Dean opened his eyes just a bit and found Sam on the phone, pacing, and boy, was he pissed. Damn, what had happened? Had they not been able to gank the bitch? Dean wrecked his brain, but there was nothing after his senses going funky on him. He hadn't fucked this up by fainting like a girl, had he?

"Bobby, stop lecturing me, just help me out, okay? I don't know what to do. I didn't... I have no idea how to tell him... I mean..." Sam heaved a sigh. "Sure, great idea. Just call me when you got something." With that Sam disconnected and tossed the phone on his bed. He froze in mid-movement, when his eyes met with Dean's. "Dean... uh... hi," he said with a tense, nervous smile.

"What –" Dean stopped right after that word, not even remembering what it was he'd wanted to ask. Because... was this voice?

"Yeah, well... Dean... thing is..." Sam started, all but squirming, then held up one hand, asking for a moment, disappeared into the bathroom and returned a few seconds later with the mirror. "Thing is, the deva managed to... uh... just before my incantation took effect and sizzled her..." He sighed. "I'm sorry." Only then did he hold up the mirror so Dean could look at ... not himself.

This was not him, couldn't be, because this was a woman he was looking at. Okay, so she had his eyes, his lips, his nose... even his hair! And yet it was most definitely not a man's face looking back at him from the mirror. Even the hair, short as it was, looked girlish somehow. With trepidation Dean let his gaze drop lower.

"NO!" Not even his un-his voice could shock him right now, because his shirt showed two very distinctive bulges. He had honest-to-god-goddam-boobs! – And if he had boobs plus a girlie face... Dean's hand flew to his crotch. "No..." this time he could only whisper. His fun parts were gone. There was... well, there was... He couldn't be sure, of course, but logic demanded that... Screw it all to hell and back!

He was a woman.

"Apparently devas have that ability," Sam explained feebly.

Dean just stared at him. _Now_ he found out? "And you couldn't have..." Dean quickly shut up, wincing at the voice and trusting that Sam would get the question anyhow.

"It wasn't mentioned anywhere," Sam defended himself, but it was weak. "I protected us both against her killing us, against her hexing the plague on us, and against a number of other things, but this... It just wasn't mentioned."

Dean just kept staring. Spared him from hearing that god-awful voice and usually did a much more effective job anyway.

"Look, I already called Bobby," Sam hastened to say. "He called me a long and illustrious list of things for going up against a deva without letting him know beforehand."

And justly so, Dean thought, hopefully communicating the thought to Sam with just looks.

"Fortunately he seems to own that one book, said he'd read something about devas a while back. So I'm confident he'll have a cure for you soon enough."

Soon enough? _Soon enough?_ If this had never happened it wouldn't be _soon enough_. When you suddenly had protruding body parts in all the wrong places, there was no such thing as _soon enough_ . "Soon enough?" Dean got out between clenched teeth.

Sam finally looked appropriately guilty, snatched the mirror and took it back to the bathroom. Probably just an excuse to get away from Dean's death glare.

Wise kid.

-oOo-

After almost a day of ignoring the need, Dean could no longer avoid it: He had to go, desperately. He felt like his bladder was about to burst any minute. How he was going to get up from the bed and walk to the bathroom without disturbing it and causing a mess was not quite clear to him yet. But he knew this much: If he didn't go soon – like now – he would have a lot of explaining to do.

Slowly, carefully, he rolled out of bed. He found his jeans too big, his shirt too. Looked as if he had shrunk by about a foot. Godforsaken deva-bitch! Dean hitched up the legs of his jeans so he wouldn't trip and made his way to the bathroom.

" 'kay," he gave himself a whispered pep-talk, "time to face the ugly truth." He pulled the jeans down and sat. What a humiliation to have to pee sitting down.

-oOo-

The next morning Dean slept in late. He almost woke up a couple of times, but each time he quickly turned around and burrowed deep into the covers. As long as he was in slumber-land, he was still a man.

But eventually his body couldn't sleep any more. He was as rested as he ever would be, despite those... things attached to his chest. Seriously, it had taken him hours to find a position in which they weren't in the way. Really, did they have to be that big? How did women do it? He had watched a lot of women sleep over the years, and none of them ever seemed to have that kind of problem.

"Coffee?" Sam asked. He sat at the far corner of the room, his laptop balanced on his knees.

Dean nodded. Coffee sounded good. And pancakes, and scrambled eggs, and bacon with cheese. Or maybe a burger.

"Breakfast's in the bag," Sam told him and pointed at a brown paper bag on the nightstand next to Dean, then he got up and poured a cup of black coffee from a thermos.

Dean thankfully accepted the cup and tried not to look too closely at his arms and hands as he dug up his breakfast. Most of it was cold, but Dean didn't have to have warm food to be happy. Greasy and massively unhealthy did it.

For a few blissful moments Dean forgot everything thanks to the taste of crispy bacon.

Fast food be blessed.

-oOo-


	3. Cas, might need you here!

It was early afternoon on the second day of Dean's predicament when Bobby called. Sam took it. Of course he did. Dean had been practically mute for the last two days, staying in bed all day and giving himself an overdose of TV and booze. It was the only way he knew to keep reality at bay.

The conversation was short and quite one-sided, with Bobby doing most of the talking, which made it impossible for Dean to glean any information. Half-sentences like "so you mean that" or "makes sense" just didn't help.

"And?" Dean asked when Sam hung up.

"Apparently devas are kind of... fallen angels," Sam started, speaking so slowly it was almost comical.

But the word "angel" alone killed any and all sense of humour Dean might have had left. Those sons of bitches, those dickheads, those ... those ... Weren't they messing with his life enough already?

"Good news about that is that an angel should be able to... uh... reverse your... uh... condition."

"Cas?" Dean dared starting to hope.

Sam simply flicked his phone open again and dialled. "Castiel? Might need you here."

It took Cas not even a second from learning their location to showing up in their room. "What do you need?" he asked in that mix of aloofness and urgency that only he was capable of.

Sam wordlessly pointed at Dean. Cas followed the gesture.

For a long moment there was nothing but Cas staring at Dean's new appearance. "Ah," he finally said.

"That's it?" Dean asked bewildered, "just 'ah'?!"

"I understand that you do not need me to explain to you what has happened." Cas said, and almost nothing betrayed that he was spooked. But if you knew him, the extra formal way of speaking and slightly widened eyes were a dead giveaway.

"He's a girl, dammit!" Sam snapped, in full bitch-mode now.

"So I see." Cas acknowledged. He already had himself back under control.

"So what're you gonna do about it?" Sam bitched on.

"What do you want me to..."

"Change me back!" Dean interrupted furiously. Really, Cas' one big talent in the world was testing people's patience, and he put that talent to the test at the most inconvenient times, like now, when Dean was dying a thousand deaths of embarrassment.

"How did this happen?" Cas asked, all business, completely ignoring Dean's fury and frustration. Or maybe he didn't care. Either way, Dean felt like kicking the angel somewhere tender.

Sam gave a quick summary and finished it with, "So, you can help him, right?"

Cas looked back at Sam for a long moment. "I am sorry, but I can't change him back to male."

There was a moment of dead-silence in the room in which both Winchesters tried to digest what Cas had just thrown at them. This couldn't possibly be.

"I don't possess that kind of power anymore," Cas went on to explain.

"But the deva was a fallen angel, and she had no problem messing me up!" Dean protested, uttering his longest sentence since the incident.

Cas gave him one of those pained looks he did so well. "When we fall, we keep certain powers, others we lose. I do not know how it is decided which ones we get to keep and which are taken away."

"Great," Dean and Sam muttered simultaneously.

"I am sorry, Dean."

"What?!" Sam practically jumped at Cas' throat. "You're telling us there's nothing you can do, and all you can come up with is '_I'm sorry ' _?!"

Cas gave Sam another one of those pained looks. Oh yes, he _really_ did them well. Dean almost bought it.

"No!" Sam snapped, making the best of his height and staring down at Cas from very, very close by. "You get your lazy fallen-angel-ass up and find a way," he was almost whispering now, but he didn't have to shout to convey the message. "If you don't, I swear to God, I'll kill you."

That one Dean did buy. Had to for the sake of his own sanity. Sam wouldn't just toss out empty threats. When he said he would kill Cas, then he actually would, and right now Dean couldn't care less.

"I will do my best," Cas quickly assured, but other than that didn't show any sign of distress or even discomfort. "But it may take a little while."

"How long is a little?" Dean demanded to know.

"Couple of hours, a day maybe."

Sam looked at Dean, trying to assert if that was okay, but Dean just shrugged. What choices did they have?

"I'll go ... search then." Cas left without another word or even a look at either of them. Just the sound of fluttering wings.

"Let's hope he does find something," Sam said, flopping down on his bed.

Dean sighed in ways of agreement and turned the volume on the TV back up.


	4. Rare human Angel Moment

_Sorry for the misunderstandings.... This story IS complete. It has a few more chapters, so don't worry too much about Dean. He will be "cured". I'll make it clear from now on, that there are more chapters to come with the good old trusted "TBC" at the end._

* * *

**Chapter 4: Rare human Angel Moment**

Cas was back after only forty-three minutes. "I think I have what it needs."

"Great, give me!" Dean sat up enthusiastically and damned the wobbling feeling on his chest right afterwards.

"It's not that simple." Cas paused with a pointed look at Sam. "You will have to leave."

Dean and Sam exchanged looks. "No," they said in unison.

"Trust me, you don't want Sam here when..." Cas trailed off ominously.

"I don't?" Dean asked acerbically.

"If there was ever a time to trust me," Cas said gravely, "now is it."

Dean pondered that for a moment. Cas had never really done anything to harm him. Damn, he was the one who had pulled him from the pit! So he hesitantly nodded.

"I'll be right outside." Sam made it sound like a threat.

"So?" Dean looked at Cas expectantly.

Cas came over and sat down on the bed next to Dean. He dropped his voice to almost a whisper. "You will have to... accept this body."

"What?!" Dean felt like jumping out of bed and clocking Cas a good one. But Dean just didn't get up unless absolutely necessary, because it demonstrated too clearly what he had become. So he stayed in bed and just glared at Cas extra menacingly. "That's your fabulous solution? You were wrong, I want Sam in here, so he can give..."

"You misunderstand me," Cas interrupted.

"I do, huh?" Dean snapped.

"Yes. What I was trying to say is: You will have to... become a woman before you can turn back into a man."

"What? Have you looked at me lately?"

Cas let his gaze travel over Dean's body for a moment, as if indeed he hadn't noticed so far. "You still don't understand."

Dean gave Cas an exasperated then-explain-it look.

"You have to be with a man," Cas said.

The penny took its sweet time to drop, but when it finally did, Dean felt... gutted. Okay, so Cas was right after all. He really didn't want Sam around for the dropping of this particular bomb.

For over a minute he just sat there and stared at Cas.

"Did you understand what I said?" Cas finally asked.

"Oh, I understood you." Dean shuddered and made a gagging sound.

"Are you unwell?"

Dean was again tempted to clock Cas one. How could he even ask? Dean shot him a death-glare, which, of course, had no effect whatsoever. "You sure that's the way?"

"Yes."

"And you're sure there's no other way?"

Cas pondered the question for a moment. "If I still had Heaven's power at my hands, I could reverse you with a touch. But as you know, I'm cut off from Heaven."

"Can't we ask some other angel? Sure you must still have friends up there..."

Cas shook his head minutely. "I am afraid that none of them will care, or even understand the problem. Woman or man is ultimately inconsequential to us."

Dick-headed sons of bitches! Of course it didn't matter to them! To them it was no different from wearing a shirt or a pullover.

"But then, how... how..." He stared pleadingly at Cas. He couldn't be a woman. No way! He was a man, a _manly_ man!

"The way you look, I assume it won't be a problem. You can pick just anyone."

"What? Like going out there and...?" Dean wildly shook his head. "No way. I'm not gonna show off this body. No way. I mean, I know what men are like. I _am_ one!"

Cas gave him a long look. "I have already seen you."

"Yeah, so that's you." Dean didn't see what difference that made.

"Maybe... I...?" Cas raised an eyebrow with the last word, visibly doubtful of his own suggestion.

Dean's first reaction was shock that Cas would even think of this, doubt or no doubt, but then he swallowed. Of all the men in the world Cas probably was the least bad choice. He had already seen him as a woman, and he wouldn't tell anyone, not even Sam. "Yeah, but you're... I mean, do you pass as a man?" Dean asked. "I mean, you actually are an angel."

"A fallen angel," Cas clarified with a trace of pain in his voice.

"Yeah, but... I mean... I don't want to... y'know... and then be still... like this." He chanced a quick glance down his changed body. Oah, big mistake.

"This body is male," Cass touched his chest demonstratively. "And in this matter physicality counts, not spirituality. Like you are not really a woman, but your body is. For the time being."

Okay, made sense. "But still, you're sure this will work?"

"It will work."

"You're really, _really_ sure? Because I do love my original body."

"I am sure."

Dean reached for the Red Label with resignation. "Right, just let me get my little helper here to think things through." He took a long drink. "I can't do this sober."

Cas took the bottle from him. "Me neither."

Wow, rare human angel moment.

TBC


	5. Just do it

**Chapter 5: Just... do it**

They spent the rest of the day in front of the TV, agreeing that the darker it was, the better. Plus, putting it off for a little while longer helped Dean not to freak out on the spot.

Sam had bitched around, mainly because he wasn't clued in, Dean suspected. But after half an hour he had taken the Impala and driven to the next town over. – Just a precaution so he wouldn't drop in unannounced because he lost his patience and wanted to see how progress was coming along. Cas had gone to make sure he really was there.

"What you say, dark enough?" Dean finally asked, his tongue heavy with alcohol.

Cas checked the window. "I don't think it will become any darker."

"Draw the curtains." Damn, and just how girlish did that sound? But Cas got up without a word and drew the curtains, turned off the lights and the TV. The sudden silence in the room was deafening. Cas must have felt the same, because he turned on the radio. Pop music – well, you can't have everything. On the way over to the bed he started undressing, and, damn, if Dean could see that, there was still too much light.

"Can you kill the street lights outside?"

Cas held out his hand towards the window. A moment later there was a popping sound and the room grew darker. Another two pops and the room was pitch black.

"Thanks." Dean swallowed. This was it now. – And why the hell did he feel all sobered up, suddenly? This was _not_ the time to sober up!

The bed dipped. The covers lifted. Cas slipped in next to him. A hand touched his waist.

"You will have to undress," Cas said in a low voice, too close for comfort, and slightly unstable.

Dean swallowed again. Yeah, he knew that. It was just that...

"Shall I help?" Cas was determined to pull this off, even though his voice gave him away now: He was afraid of the unknown.

It wasn't nice, but Cas' fear made it easier for Dean. At least he had done a version of this before. Cas on the other hand was a total virgin.

Already the next moment, though, Cas surprised him by making a joke, ill-timed as it was: "You wanted me to be with a woman. But that you'd go to such lengths to make it happen..."

"Oh shut up!"

"I'm nervous," Cas admitted after a beat. "What if I do it wrong?"

"You won't," Dean promised and finally wriggled out of his jeans. "I mean it's nature. If you don't know what to do, your body will, trust me."

"I don't know about that," Cas contradicted. "What do I do?"

Dean covered his eyes with his hands and groaned with frustration. This was going to be so much worse than he had imagined, just for other reasons. "Okay, sex 101: Are you..." Dean groaned again. Honestly, how could he ask Cas if he was hard yet?

"Am I...?" Cas prompted.

"Hard," Dean spat out. "Your little Cas, is it..."

There was a pause, then: "I don't know if it is... sufficient. Could you..."

"NO! No, I can absolutely _not_ check!" Dean tried not to think of Cas' naked naughty bits right next to him. Way too much information. "If you're not sure, it probably isn't," he conceded to say.

"So how do I..."

"God, touch it! Okay? Don't they teach you anything in angel school?"

"There is no such thing as..."

"I know, just... can it!" Why did this guy always have to take things so literal?

"I know the technicalities," Cas said after a moment. "But it seems not to be working."

"How much have you had to drink?" Too much alcohol could do that to a man, after all.

Cas didn't answer, but there was the tell-tale rustle of a man accommodating himself.

More pictures Dean didn't want to see but saw nonetheless in his mind. Cas doing... getting ready to...

Dean's breath caught, as panic rose in him. He didn't want this to happen. Maybe being a woman for the rest of his life wasn't so bad after all? He couldn't... couldn't have Cas invade him like this. It was too close to saying yes, it would be an angel inside his body. – Who was he kidding? He just couldn't let _anyone_ enter him like that. He was not cut out for this part. He was a top, if anything, not a bottom! – Not that there were top and bottom between man and woman. Not that he was a woman...

"Are you alright?" Cas' voice was close and smooth and concerned. "We can postpone if you wish."

"That wouldn't make it any better," Dean pressed out past his panic. "So let's just get it over with."

There was no reaction from Cas for a long moment.

"Hey, you still with me on this?" Dean stopped short of nudging Cas. No touching the guy except for what was absolutely necessary to get the deed done.

"I think it is sufficient now," Cas said matter-of-factly.

Dean swallowed and nodded. "Okay, then." He sounded much calmer and much more prepared than he felt. Good. No need to clue Cas in on how much the idea revolted him.

The bed dipped and waggled as Cas moved on top of Dean.

And there it was, Dean could feel it: Little Cas. And yeah, he thought it was sufficient, too. But he also thought that it was awfully big, and to think that... He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away. "Just... do it."

"I think it will be easier for you if you..." Cas trailed off.

"If I what?"

Cas didn't answer, just pushed Dean's legs a little further apart.

Dean swallowed a wave of bitterness. This was so degrading, so humiliating. This was... His eyes flew open as he felt pressure down there, going from awkward to uncomfortable to downright painful in the matter of a second. He pushed Cas away, scooted up to a sitting position, and drew his legs up close to his body.

"Dean?"

Dean just shook his head. He wouldn't tell Cas that he had hurt him, or how much. No need to disturb Cas over this. "Nerves, I guess," he lied after a moment. Better to let Cas believe that a set of bad nerves was all this was about.

"This is the only thing that will turn you back."

"I know!" Dean snapped. Unfortunately that didn't ease the pain still throbbing in his gut, like a kick in the balls. Damn, what had he done to women all those years? No, he quickly corrected himself. They had enjoyed themselves. Maybe it was because he was a man – with manly thoughts and manly feelings – trapped in a woman's body. Maybe it was different for real women.

Dean fished for his jeans lying on the floor beside the bed.

"You don't want to follow through?" Cas asked.

"No." Dean slipped into his jeans and fled to the bathroom where he sat in the dark on the closed toilet, brooding, trying to will the pain away.

-oOo-

TBC


	6. Cas has been doing research

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, people. I'm glad you're enjoying this as much as I do.

Just let me know if this needs to be rated M or if it can pass under T, because I'm not sure. It's not too graphic, but it still is ... well, single-minded.

* * *

**Chapter 6: Cas has been doing research**

The next morning was awkward to say the least. Dean had gone to sleep in Sam's bed sometime after midnight and woke to Cas sitting on his bed, looking at him. "Don't stare at me like that," Dean demanded and pulled the covers over his head.

"I brought food."

Good, Dean thought, but didn't say anything.

"I will be gone during the day, but I will be back tonight for..." He nervously cleared his throat. "So we can try again."

Good and not so good. It was good that Cas would be gone for the day. It was not so good that they would have to give it another try tonight. Dean still felt tender down there, and the thought of another assault to his nether regions was nothing he looked forward to.

He heard a flutter and knew that Cas was gone. He pushed back the covers and found the table laden with food of all kinds. At least something. He spent the rest of the day in front of the TV, eating.

Sam called twice, but Dean didn't bother to pick up. He figured that if he rejected the calls after the first ring, Sam would get the message that he just didn't want to pick up while still being alive and sentient. Would have to do.

Cas returned only when it was dark outside. "I think I know what the problem was," he said instead of a hello.

Dean thought he did, too. He'd had a whole day to think it over, and it was so simple, it was embarrassing that he hadn't thought of it earlier: This had been his first time as a woman. He had been the first man for a few girls, and he had unintentionally hurt them. So of course it had hurt him, too, now. The female body was just awfully badly designed. Why put a piece of skin where it was inadvertently in the way of reproduction, the big goal of all life? This was really just stupid. If Cas ever found his father, and if Dean got to meet the guy too, he would have to ask.

"You have to experience pleasure during the encounter," Cas said.

Dean coughed. WHAT?!

"This act is meant to be mutually satisfying," Cas practically lectured. "You were not satisfied in the slightest, so it is just natural it didn't work."

Dean groaned. Damn...

"Anyhow," Cas continued as he took off his coat and jacket. "I've been researching the subject today."

Now _that_ caught Dean's attention. "You've been watching porn?" He couldn't help the gleeful grin spreading on his face.

"I found it most helpful," Cas confirmed, dead-pan as always, and switched off the TV.

"Dude, you do know that porn isn't real, right? I mean, it doesn't work like that in real life."

"It doesn't?" Cas stopped dead and looked at Dean like a first grader being caught stealing a fellow student's lunch.

"Well, technically... it does," Dean explained, glad that this would give him another minute before... "But it's not like... not so... rough." He winced at his own words. Put like that porn sounded like something bad.

"Oh," Cas seemed relieved. "Yes, I figured that much," he said, "But it was still... It was insightful."

Dean bit back about a hundred bad jokes he could have cracked at the word "insightful" in this context alone. Instead he repeated his warning. "Really, it's not like that. In real life you need a little more finesse. You don't just find women throwing themselves at you, begging to be fucked." – Although, in a sense, that was just what he was doing. He grimaced. Better not go there.

"I understand. But it helped me nonetheless." Cas just wouldn't let it go and switched off the lights.

In the darkness Dean could hear him take off the rest of his clothes. The bed dipped, and with a resigned sigh Dean took off his jeans. Cas slipped under the covers.

"I think you should take off all your clothes," Cas asked softly.

"No way, pervert."

"I really think... For your own good."

"My own good? Now that's rich. You just wanna have me naked, 'cause after a day of porn you've realized you're actually a guy, and now you want boobs. Forget it."

Cas didn't answer, but a moment later Dean felt hands on his shirt, pushing it up, hands slipping under it, over his skin. Dean twisted away from Cas' touch. "Honestly, Dude, not cool."

Again Cas didn't speak. He just pushed Dean back onto the mattress, one hand on his shoulder holding him down, the other slipping under his shirt again, faster this time, more purposefully.

Dean grunted with anger and frustration as he tried to evade Cas and couldn't. This new body of his was a bad joke. Normally he could throw Cas off, but now he simply didn't have enough strength. Cas could overpower him just like that and have his way with him. And who did Cas think he was, anyway? Following his own agenda and ignoring Dean so completely with not even a word of excuse.

But then Cas' hand reached its goal, and... okay, so maybe it wasn't the worst feeling in the world. Truth be told, Dean had enjoyed women teasing his nipples before. So why not now?

"Good? Bad?" Cas asked.

"Neither," Dean answered, not protesting or stopping Cas when he pulled the shirt over his head, leaving them both buck naked. Obviously protesting made no impression and stopping Cas was impossible. Just thank god for the broken streetlights. – Well, thank Cas, actually.

"How can I make it good?" Cas asked.

Dean had no idea. He knew what he'd do if their roles were reversed, but he really, _really_ didn't want Cas' lips and tongue on his nipples. So he said nothing.

"You have to help me," Cas asked. "Remember, I have never done this before."

"Can't you dip into Jimmy's memories?" Dean asked.

"Jimmy is dead," Cas reminded him, "and so are his memories."

"Oh." If there had been any kind of mood to begin with, this would have killed it. "Well, I'm not sure what to tell you, I have no idea how this body works."

"Tell me what you would do."

No way he was going to tell Cas to suck on his... gah, just thinking the word made him feel dirty.

"I'll just have to... improvise then."

Oh no.

Cass slowly glided down.

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no.

"Just... don't go too porn on me."

"I won't," Cas promised from a little way down.

Dean hissed when he felt Cas' lips on... gah, dirty again. Lips and tongue, slow, studious... considerate. The truly shocking thing though was that Dean liked it. A lot more than he cared to admit.

"Good? Bad?" Cas asked close to his body, so close that Dean could feel the brush of his breath on his skin.

"G-good," he stuttered, so overwhelmed he allowed the truth.

Cas kept going, clearly satisfied with himself, but he did more than just that. His hands wandered down along the sides of Dean's body, slipped to the insides of his thighs, pushing them apart, stroking up and down slowly. Each stroke going a little bit further up.

Damn it, but this did feel good. How could this feel good? But there was no denying it. The warmth slowly building in his crotch, the urge to spread his legs a bit wider to give Cas better access. After a moment of stubbornness Dean gave in.

A moan escaped Cas. "You say when," he asked in a husky voice. Clearly Cas wanted to. Now. It was, after all, a man's body he was stuck in.

But Dean wasn't sure _he_ was ready. Yesterday's pain was still too clear in his mind and body. But yesterday he had practically asked Cas to rape him, take him unprepared, he realized. Now he was prepared. So he swallowed and nodded. "But... slow. Y'know, careful, like I could break."

"I'll be gentle," Cas promised, and scooted up a little too eager for Dean's comfort.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut again, felt Cas' hands on his crotch and... DAMN! But if that didn't feel good! Dean gasped, twitching under the touch. Then there was the pressure. It was easier to take this time, but still a far cry from pleasurable.

"Bad?" Cas asked apprehensively.

Dean forced himself to lie. "Passable." Actually it was bad. Not so much because it hurt – which it did, just not so much this time – more because of the basic wrongness of the deed. He was a guy sleeping with a guy. Gross.

"Sure?"

"Yeah, get on with... ah." This hurt, and he couldn't mask it when he talked.

Cas pulled back right away. "You shouldn't lie to me," he admonished. "I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to help you. This is for nothing if you don't enjoy it."

"And how am I supposed to do that?" Dean burst into anger. He snatched the cover and got off the bed. Wrapping the cover tightly around himself he started pacing. "You're a _guy_, Cas! And so am I!"

"I'm an angel, and therefore genderless. It is only this body..."

"You got a dick attached to you, you're a guy!"

"And you have no dick attached to you, so you're not a guy," Cas gave back levelly.

Somebody strangle this angel and his logic, please.

-oOo-

TBC


	7. More Research

**Chapter 7: More Research**

Cas had again been gone during the day. When he showed up at night, Dean just shook his head. He was not in the mood. As a matter of fact, he had never been less in the mood than right now.

"You are aware..."

"Yeah, I know," Dean cut him off. "Just taking the night off." Then he demonstratively turned up the volume on the TV.

"Sam has called me," Cas said.

Dean ignored him. Of course Sam had called. Dean would have been surprised if he hadn't. When Dean hadn't picked up, he had turned to the next logical source of information.

"I told him that we're working on it."

"Well we're not, not tonight."

"So it seems. What shall I tell him next time he calls?"

"Tell him to get drunk, tell him... I don't care. Just don't tell him the truth."

Cas remained for a few moments longer, then left with a flutter. Good riddance.

-oOo-

The next morning Dean regretted his bitchiness.

None of this was Cas' fault. Not that he'd been transformed, not that the sex didn't work, not that Dean felt caught and cornered. But when Cas showed up in the evening, apprehensive, yet determined to give it another try, Dean was bitching around again. He just couldn't help himself.

"I am not the one who wants to change his sex," Cas said coolly after hearing out another of Dean's rants. "I do not have to do this. It is you who needs this... who needs me."

The truth of the statement stung. Dean prided himself on being self-sufficient. He was the one who helped, not the one who needed help. To know that he depended on Cas' mercy now was terrifying, was intimidating. "I can always go out there and find me some random guy!" he claimed.

"You wouldn't."

And, damn, if that wasn't the truth again. Ultimately, maybe, he would. But as long as Cas was here and willing...

"I'll be back tomorrow."

"What? You mean we're not gonna give it a shot tonight?" What had that been about Cas and being willing?

"You clearly couldn't get into the mood. It will be better tomorrow."

-oOo-

It was better the next day, though not by much. But they did give it a try. It was frustrating and not leading anywhere except pain for Dean. Which lead to two more nights without tries. Because Dean really wasn't a wimp, he could deal with pain just fine. But this was not just pain, it was humiliation and violation on top of it. And Dean had always been having a major problem with those two.

He knew he couldn't go on like this forever. Sooner or later Cas would leave him to sort out his fate on his own, and bad as trying it with Cas was, doing it with a stranger was even worse. The mere idea made Dean's skin crawl.

He was determined to make up with Cas when he showed up tonight. Because Cas was the only man he trusted with the matter.

Sam called. Again. He called more and more often now, and meanwhile was up to calling about every other hour. Dean never answered. He texted at best. For what could he tell him? "Sorry, still a girl, 'cause I'm too queasy to fuck"? Yeah, that would go over really well.

Cas fluttered into the room. Was it really that late already?

"How are you feeling tonight?" Cas asked.

Dean sighed. Truth was, he felt lousy. But he had to make up with Cas, so he shrugged. "Fine, I guess."

Cas wordlessly mojoed off the newly repaired street lights. The popping sounds were somehow comforting. Like at least something was still normal. Dean turned off the TV and Cas the main lights.

Dean heard Cas move over, heard him rustle with his clothes. Damn, he really started to hate that sound.

"I hope I won't upset you," Cass said softly, as he got under the covers. "Again."

That made two of them.

"I'm sorry I'm not better at this," Cas went on to apologize.

Dean's heart leapt when he realized why he only trusted Cas. It wasn't just that he was the least bad choice. He probably was even the best. How many other men would put their partner and her – respectively his – needs behind their own for days in a row? How many men would take so much bitchiness and still be back every night? Not many. "Thanks."

"For what? So far I haven't accomplished anything."

"Which isn't your fault," Dean admitted. "I just don't know how to handle this."

Cas put a finger to Dean's lips to shush him. "Don't worry, we'll sort it out. Sooner or later."

"Sooner would be nice."

"When the time is right."

Dean hated that attitude in Cas, but he didn't want to disturb the calm. So he put it in a joke. "I know that time is pretty dismissible for you angels. But me, I'm just a human, and we have rather limited life-spans."

"I am aware of that," Cas said. "Which is why I've done some more research."

Dean laughed. "More porn? Why, Cas, we're gonna make a man out of you yet!"

"I thought I already was one. As you said: I have a dick attached to my body."

"It takes more than that."

"It takes porn?" Cas sounded truly confused.

"No. It takes... Men, we... we gotta be dicks, sometimes, okay? It's in the job description. Women are bitchy, men are dicks. It's the way of the world."

"I can't imagine my father having that in mind when he created you."

"Well maybe not, but it's the way we turned out to be. Get used to it."

"I'm trying."

Cas' Hand on his waist made Dean jump, despite them being naked and in bed, and sex being the only purpose of their get-together. But Cas just left it lying there.

"Uh..."

"Familiarizing," Cas explained lazily, like he were on the verge of falling asleep.

"That's not gonna get me anywhere."

"Oh, I believe it will," Cas contradicted with an audible smile.

-oOo-

TBC


	8. Ready whenever you are

**Chapter 8: Ready whenever you are**

Like so often lately, Cas had been right – damn him. Three nights of doing nothing but sleeping next to each other – with their clothes on! – helped Dean relax around Cas. The fourth night Cas insisted they be naked, but he still didn't do anything more than just stretch out next to Dean and go to sleep – or pretend to sleep, anyway.

After another three nights of that treatment, Dean couldn't keep his frustration back anymore. "We gonna do this anytime soon, or will I die an old maid?"

"I'm ready whenever you are."

Boaster, Dean thought good-humouredly, but the next moment drew in a sharp breath, when Cas was on him, settled between his legs as if he'd never done anything else. Slowly he moved downwards with his lips leaving a trail of... something, just surely not kisses, on Dean's skin.

"You know, when I was doing my research..."

"Yeah?" Dean asked breathlessly. And wasn't Cas awfully far down by now?

"Apparently this feels good." Said it and disappeared with his head between Dean's legs.

Dean shot up and brought a safe distance between his crotch and Castiel's mouth. "You are so not gonna do this!"

"Why not? I understand it's quite pleasurable if done right. And I'm confident that it's not so complicated that I couldn't do it. Right, I mean."

"Who cares? It's gross!"

"I've had your nipples in my mouth." Only Cas could sound business saying that.

"Well, that's one thing, okay? Down there, whole other thing! Off limits like nothing's ever been off limits before, got that?!"

"You're making yourself quite clear."

"Good, so can we... just..." Dean couldn't finish.

Cas moved up to eye-level again. Not that Dean could see it, but he felt it. "I'm sorry. I promised myself not to upset you anymore, and then I do just that the first opportunity I get."

"Yeah, well. Men gotta be dicks sometimes," Dean accepted the apology.

"I hope this will feel better," Cas said and the next moment Dean had Cas' mouth at the base of his neck, not even sucking yet, but it felt spectacular already. And it became even better when Cas started sucking and nibbling.

Dean tried to keep the moan inside, but failed.

"Good?" Cas asked at his neck just a tad too smugly.

"Bitch," Dean chided affectionately.

At some point Cas must have started rocking his hips against Dean's, but Dean only registered it now. Worrisome, to say the least. He quickly turned his head and demanded, "other side" to keep himself distracted from what happened further down.

Cas complied readily.

Oh yes. He could stay like this for a while. A warm, firm body on top of him, a warm, eager mouth spoiling his neck in places he so far hadn't even known were receptive.

Cas was moaning, too, now. His moves took on an urgent quality. Dean knew he should take pity on the guy, but that would mean allowing him to enter. Something Dean still wasn't sure how to allow to happen.

"Say when," Cas panted.

It was what tipped Dean over. He could tell that Cas desperately wanted to, but still he didn't even outright ask. "Now," Dean whispered, his breath catching with trepidation. So far it had always ended here, with either pain or accusations or both.

But when he felt the pressure this time, it wasn't painful, just unfamiliar. It was something his body was curious about and eager to explore.

Cas was going slow, like extremely slow, like almost not moving at all, and Dean was thankful for that. It gave him time to get used to the foreign flesh entering him.

There was a sharp pinch when Cas pushed past the hymen, but it was short-lived, quickly washed away by that new, good, sensation. Dean held his breath. It was the only way he knew how to survive this onslaught of sensational.

"Bad?" Cas asked anxiously and stopped.

"No, no..." Dean brought out. A shudder ran up his spine. "Just..."

"I know," Cas interrupted, "slow. Like you could break."

Dean nodded against Cas' shoulder and felt him shake and tremble. Cas was holding back. Boy, was he ever holding back. Dean swallowed. "You know... I think I won't break," he said.

"You said you would."

"I lied."

With a thankful sigh Cas let go a bit.

So was Dean. The step had finally been taken and it didn't feel half bad. He might as well go and enjoy the rest of it.

His legs came up without his doing. His arms curled around Cas' back without his doing, pulling him down, pulling Cas' head down beside his own. Suddenly it felt as if he couldn't be close enough. Like if he got just this tiny little bit closer, everything would be fine. But Cas seemed to remain this one last fraction too far away, no matter what Dean did.

Until he suddenly wasn't.

It was completely different from what Dean had known so far. It lasted longer, for one, and it wasn't limited to his crotch and belly either, but running all through his body. Radiating from where he was connected with Cas it crashed through his body, reaching every last cell, drowning his brain.

Then it was gone.

And then it came again.

Okay, so multiple orgasms were not a myth.

When the second one let up, Dean was desperate for air. He felt like he hadn't drawn a proper breath in ages, but at the same time he really didn't care, because what he and Cas did together was too exciting to stop for such mundane things as breathing.

It came a third time. No, not _it_ came, _he_ came. And this time, Cas came with him.

Lying in an exhausted bundle, arms and legs entangled, they were gasping for air and coherent thought.

At long last Cas rolled off Dean, stretching out beside him. "No wonder you humans practice this so often," he said hoarsely. "It's amazing."

Dean laughed, still light-headed. "Got you hooked?"

Cas sighed contentedly. "It is definitely something I want to do again."

"Yeah, well. Just not with me." At that Dean put a tentative hand to his body, but it still felt unsettlingly female. "Cas... seems as if..."

"Hm?"

"It's not working. I'm still a gal."

"Give it a little time," Cas said casually.

"How long is a little?"

Cas cleared his throat. "Not sure. A few minutes?"

Dean felt like strangling Cas for his indifference. So yes, this had been an incredible experience just now. Yes, he had enjoyed himself, more than he ever had thought possible – or would ever admit to anyone. But if it didn't make him change back, it defied the entire purpose of the deed, and that took all the fun and joy out of it even afterwards.

But just as he opened his mouth to give Cas a piece of his mind, he felt the ants crawling on his skin and his brain whirling inside his skull. "I think it worked after all." His voice sounded distant and tinny to him. He felt Cas reach out for him, heard him say something, but didn't understand what.

And then there was nothing.

-oOo-

It was dawn when Dean woke up again. He looked around, a little disoriented and found Cas sitting on the other bed, fully clothed including the trench coat, looking out the window.

Hesitantly, afraid of what he would find – or wouldn't – Dean slipped a hand between his legs.

YES! There it was, Little Dean was back! He lifted the covers. It was probably tacky, but Dean enjoyed the sight of his own male body: the flat, muscled chest, his penis, lying across his thigh as if it hadn't been AWOL for the last two weeks. "I'm me again!" he shouted and felt another surge of happiness upon hearing his usual deep voice.

Cas turned to face him. "I know, and I am very happy for you."

Dean laughed, giddy with relief, snatched his jeans off the floor, slipped into them and went to the bathroom.

Yes! Peeing standing up. It's a man's world, baby.

"Say, Cas..." Dean started as he returned to the bedroom, but didn't finish. Cas was gone. "Great. That's angels for you," Dean muttered to himself. "Have their way with you then leave you hanging to dry." It was nonsense and on top of that unfair, but it just sounded good to hear his own voice. And he was way too happy to be serious. About anything.

He dug up his cell and called Sam. If Cas wasn't going to have an early breakfast with him, Sam surely would.

"Dean?!" Sam picked up after the first ring.

"Boy, don't you ever sleep?" Dean chided. "It's barely morning."

"I'm dying here, not knowing what's going on, not knowing whether you're even still alive, and you think I have the nerve to sleep?"

"Alright, alright, calm down. You're such a baby sometimes. Just come pick me up. I'll be at the diner across the road from the motel."

"Be there in an hour," Sam promised. "And Dean..."

"What?"

"Good to hear your voice."

Dean grinned broadly and disconnected. He got fully dressed and then went to have the mother of all breakfasts.

"Hey," Sam greeted a little over an hour later, slipping into the booth opposite of Dean. "Where's Cas?"

Dean was glad he had his mouth full at the moment, so he could swallow his embarrassment together with his food. "Gone," he finally said. "He was still here when I woke up – fully restored – and the next moment he was gone."

"So, are you ever going to tell me what he did to cure you?"

Dean quickly took a big bite off his pie, chewing extra long. "Okay, don't get this the wrong way," he finally said. "This is not a lack of confidence or anything, but I won't tell you. Ever."

Sam raised his eyebrows.

"It's sort of part of the deal."

"Like if you tell me, you change back?" Sam guessed.

"Sort of like that. A little more complicated, but... Yeah, that's it in a nutshell." He wasn't sure whether Sam bought the lie or just let it go for his sake, but the topic wouldn't come up again, and that's what counted.

"So we're good to go off to new adventures? New evils to hunt and vanquish?"

Dean nodded. "Just from now on, do always, and I mean _always_ check for off-chance abilities like this one. I don't want to go through this again." He quickly looked down and took another bite off his pie.

Maybe like it had taken a while to get the man out of him and the woman in, it would now take a while to get that woman out again. In any case, Dean could still remember the night, could almost still feel it, and part of him wouldn't mind a rerun.

Still, better not.

-oOo-

--ooOoo--

TBC ... sort of... there's an epilogue...


	9. Honey glaced coda

**honey-chocolate-sugar-glaced coda – Seriously, no plot-relevance whatsoever, and if you're looking for logic, go look somewhere else.**

Dean flipped his cell closed with frustration. He hadn't heard from Cas in almost a month. Not that Dean desperately wanted to hear from him, but the way Cas had left back then, the way he had said "I'm happy for you", and the way he was so unreachable now: It was out of character for Cas, and therefore reason for Dean to worry.

Only when he used Sam's phone, Cas picked up.

"Ha! So you just don't want to talk to me!" Dean triumphed, happy that he got Cas on the line, alive and well.

"I thought... I thought it would be awkward, for you."

"For me?" Dean chuckled. "Dude, I'm so far past awkward, you can't even imagine. Awkward was when you first..." He didn't go on. Sam was out doing research at the library, but who knows, he might come back unexpectedly.

The line went dead and a moment later Cas stood beside him.

"So, you thought I would feel awkward about this?" Dean challenged.

Cas nodded.

Dean actually did, but he wasn't going to admit that. "Even if, that wouldn't mean I don't ever want to see you again. I mean, we're friends, right?

"We are."

"Good, that cleared up, stop behaving like an angel... means like a dickhead." Dean smiled to take the sting out of his words. "Just be good ole Cas as we know him."

Cas stood, thinking, took a breath like he wanted to speak, but let it go soundlessly. The same a second time.

Dean patiently waited. Cas was struggling with the simplest things, sometimes. He could go into deadly danger without batting an eye, but a bowl of choco-pops for breakfast could throw him off track.

Cas took a deep breath a third time, then he stepped up to Dean, reached out, pulled him in and pressed his lips onto Dean's.

Dean jerked his head away and gasped. "What... What the hell did you do that for?!"

Cas looked at him, all drawn back into himself, like when they had first met. Only when he spoke, Dean could hear that he was hurting, and he immediately felt bad for him. He'd plead temporary insanity on Cas' behalf. They were friends, after all.

"I've been wanting to do this," Cas confessed. "Ever since... Ever since our first try went so awfully bad."

"Kisses don't make it all better," Dean said, wiping his mouth. "I know it's what mothers tell their kids when they're little, but it's not so."

"Probably not. But I still feel that I shouldn't have... _we_ shouldn't have... without even giving each other at least one kiss. It didn't feel right."

Dean swallowed. "You're not gonna tell me you're undyingly in love with me, now, are you?"

Cas slowly shook his head, so slowly that Dean feared that that was exactly what Cas was feeling. "I've loved you before," Cas said slowly. "If I hadn't, I wouldn't have bothered."

Yes, Dean could get behind that. That made sense.

"I only thought we should close this chapter... appropriately."

"With a kiss." Dean stared at Cas, still trying to grasp the situation.

"It seemed appropriate to me."

"Why now, why not back then?"

"You wouldn't have taken it the right way."

Dean nodded to himself. He probably wouldn't have. Not that he was sure he did now. "Okay, so a kiss is the right way to end this chapter and get back to normal?"

"That's my perception."

"Okay, but..." Dear God, what was riding him? "... that was not a kiss just now. That was two pairs of lips accidentally meeting."

Cas tilted his head to the side and looked at Dean quizzically.

Dean – really, just what in hell was driving him? – stepped up to Cas, put one hand on the back of his head, held it steady as he closed in, his lips meeting Cas', the tip of his tongue gently pushing against them, pushing them apart.

The kiss was slow and lazy and tasted of coffee.

"Okay now?" Dean asked when he stepped back from Cas.

Cas nodded and smiled. "Perfect."

They both jumped, as they heard something crash to the floor back at the door. "What the hell...?" a thunderstruck Sam gasped.

Not TBC... For real now. There's no more. But what you do with the situation at hand in your own minds ......... *shrug* I'll be the last to stop you from mashing Dean and Cas together. I think I've made that much clear. Thanks for reading, everyone!


End file.
